


At first, and then

by HelveticaBrown



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Post 2X06
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 13:25:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8580277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelveticaBrown/pseuds/HelveticaBrown
Summary: Alex is used to disappointment and Maggie turning her down is the latest entry on a very, very long list. Maggie has a very long list of failed relationships and she's determined that Alex won't be the next entry on that list.Post 2x06





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first (and probably only) foray into writing Supergirl fic of any variety. Hope a few of you enjoy it.

* * *

Alex cries for two days. It’s all she’ll allow herself, even though Kara faithfully appears each day with ice cream and strong, sympathetic arms and supersonic hearing that’s focused entirely on her troubles. It’s the closest they’ve been in years, maybe ever. But talking hurts. Just _being_ hurts and so she does what she always does and pushes Kara away. She doesn’t want to process, doesn’t want to feel like this anymore, just wants it all to stop. So she’s been throwing herself into work to the point that J’onn has threatened to cut her access to the building if he catches her doing another hour of overtime. Normally she’d just work the streets instead, go looking for some action, but she’s not ready to run into Maggie and she knows the universe has just the kind of sense of humour that means she’d end up seeing her everywhere.

She looks at her phone. There are thirteen unread text messages from Maggie and four voicemails she hasn’t listened to. She’s rejected eleven calls and five days later, it seems like Maggie has finally stopped trying.

She misses her.

She puts her phone down and pours herself a drink and tries to banish Maggie from her mind. It’s an exercise in futility and after the second drink, she finally caves and listens to one of the voicemails. It’s not much, just a simple _hey, how are you Danvers?_ She listens to the others and they’re all similar: casual, but with an edge of concern.  The last one confirms her suspicion: the ball’s in her court now and Maggie won’t call again.

The whole time she’s listening, she’s picturing Maggie, picturing the slight frown that would be creasing her brow and dark, watchful eyes and her smile, not full and open right now, but never far away. It hurts. It hurts and she can’t sit still any longer, locked up in her misery. She needs to lose herself, get outside of her head for a little while, at least.

She heads out, across town, to a bar she’s sure Maggie won’t show up at.

She knows how this goes, knows all the steps, even though it’s been a long time between drinks. Shots at the bar. Dance up on some guy; a stockbroker or a frat boy or whoever’s handsome enough and buying drinks. Except this time, it’s not a guy. This time it’s a tall blonde with cheekbones that could cut ice and blue eyes that look like they’ve been carved out of the same. She’s wearing a dress that’s probably a felony in more than a few states and what she’s about to do to Alex in an alley next to the bar is _definitely_ a felony.

It feels right in a way that none of the guys ever had. There’s a rightness and a realness and a truthfulness in the way her body responds, in the gasp she can’t quite choke back when a hand skims under her shirt and settles in the small of her back, pulling her closer. She’s gay. It’s not a phase, not a momentary aberration, not a brief confusion born of loneliness. She’s a scientist and the proof is steadily building up. Building up with each touch, each kiss until she doesn’t even remember the research question anymore.

It feels right, but there’s none of the shininess Maggie had promised, none of the brightness that had been there in those few brief moments with Maggie. In a moment of sober clarity Alex realises she’s picked someone as unlike Maggie as possible and it throws her. She catches hold of the woman’s hand – Sarah? Jessie? she doesn’t remember; it hadn’t seemed important – catches hold of her hand just as it’s about to slip beneath the waistband of her jeans.

“I’m sorry. I have an early start at work tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?” There’s breath hot against her ear, and no, she’s not. She’s not sure and so she hesitates and it’s enough.

*****

She regrets her decision the next morning when she’s rushing to get to the DEO on time from a strange apartment on the wrong side of the city after barely any sleep. She regrets it even more later that day when she’s caught unawares during a mission and ends up in the medical bay with a concussion and a broken arm.

She’s still regretting it when Kara shows up and starts lecturing her. She closes her eyes, because she’s pretty sure she’s going to throw up if she watches Kara pace back and forth any longer. Her head is pounding and everything hurts and she can’t really focus on what Kara’s saying. It’s not all bad, though; she can’t focus on much of anything except cuts and bruises and fractured bone, and physical pain makes a nice change from the other kind.

The heavy stomp of Kara’s boots stops and Alex dares to crack an eyelid, only to find Kara staring at her, hands on hips, with an intensity that would strike fear into the heart of National City’s evillest-doers.

She sighs and opens her eyes properly.

“You’re not supposed to go to sleep with a concussion,” Kara says. “Everyone knows that.”

Alex rolls her eyes and regrets it a moment later because it makes her head pound that much harder. “Went to med school, remember? And I wasn’t sleeping, just resting my eyes. You’re making me dizzy with all this pacing.”

“Sorry.” Kara runs her hands through her hair and Alex can hear the exasperation and worry in her voice when she says, “You almost got yourself killed today, Alex. What happened?”

Alex shrugs. “Alien got the jump on me. It happens sometimes in our line of work.”

Kara studies her, worry etched all over her face, and Alex is grateful that for all her powers, mind-reading isn’t one of them. “Was this about Maggie?” There’s a moment of hesitation before Kara asks, “Were you trying to get hurt, on purpose?”

She shakes her head, wincing at the pain that motion provokes. “No.” It’s kind of a lie; the last few days she’s been throwing herself into things with a kind of reckless intensity, not really caring about the consequences. There’s an alien in the holding cells with a few extra bruises who can attest to that. But today, today she was just tired and slow and stupid.

“I worry about you, Alex.” Kara sits down on the bed next to her and leans against her good side for a moment.

“You don’t need to. I know how to take care of myself.”

“Maybe. But tonight, at least, I’m taking care of you. Doctor’s orders.”

Alex doesn’t even bother arguing, because Kara’s got that look about her right now. That girl-of-steel unmovable object kind of look, and Alex doesn’t have the energy to fight against that tonight.

*****

She’s on desk duty until her arm heals. She’d argued with J’onn, argued that she still had one good arm and could still hold a gun, but he was the personification of a brick wall and her head still hurt far too much to keep butting up against it. He’d made her take a few days medical leave, but home is too quiet and so she’s back at the DEO three days early, much to J’onn’s disgust.

Having only one good arm is frustrating; paperwork is slow, most lab work is impossible, and she’s itching to be _doing_ , because sitting still gives her too much time to think. Instead, she’s stomping around the lab and the command centre, barking orders at anyone who makes the mistake of looking in her direction.

After a few hours of that, Winn grabs her by her good arm and steers her out of the lab. “Let’s get some lunch. You’re scaring the nerds which isn’t the best idea when they’re working with stuff that could blow us all into tiny little pieces.”

She grumbles a bit but lets him lead her out of the building. They sit down at a restaurant and he watches as she viciously stabs her salad.

Finally, he asks, “Is this about Maggie?”

“Kara told you?” She looks at him sharply. She’s going to have words with Kara about keeping other people’s secrets, even if she’s pretty careless with her own.

He shakes his head. “She told me to look out for you at work when she’s not here. Keep an eye on you. She didn’t tell me why, but I kind of put two and two together. I mean, the other week, you told me three times how terrible Maggie is at pool and I figure we were probably one conversation away from you telling me the name of her childhood dog. And then suddenly you’re not talking about her at all and you look like you’re ready to tear the building and everyone in it apart with your bare hands. So… two plus two.”

Alex groans. “Was I that obvious?”

“No. No, definitely not.” Winn rushes to reassure her. “I just… I notice things.” He looks down at his plate and his voice is soft as he says, “And I’ve been where you are.”

She’s taken aback for a moment, because as much as Winn kind of pings her gaydar a little (although to date, it’s hardly proven reliable), she’s pretty sure he’s hopelessly in love with her sister.

He looks back up and his eyes widen. “Not the gay thing… go you, by the way… uhh, the whole unrequited feelings thing.”

“Kara?”

“Yeah.” He pulls apart a french fry until it’s nothing but a few scattered pieces on his plate. “I’m doing better now, though.”

“How?” She leans in, listening avidly, because if there’s a secret to not feeling like this, she needs to know it.

“You know what they say. The best way to get over someone is to date a terrifying creature from Irish folklore who wants to kill your best friend.” Winn smiles as he says this, but she can see right through the forced cheerfulness.

“Pretty sure that’s not how the saying goes,” she says.

“Maybe not. It works, though. Guaranteed to put you off dating for life.”

“I was kind of already at the put-off-dating-for-life stage.” She smiles humourlessly. “But then I met Maggie.”

Winn’s eyes are sympathetic. “I don’t have any easy answers, but I realised being her friend was more important to me than the alternative, which was being nothing at all.”

 _Friends_. She doesn’t have friends. She has Kara, she has Kara’s friends, but none of her own. She has a sister and a job and sometimes they feel like one and the same. But friends? She doesn’t have those, has never quite found room in her life. And maybe that’s part of the problem. There was a moment when it seemed like maybe Maggie could fill that gap in her life, but that had quickly been overtaken by other feelings.

*****

Alex is used to disappointment. She’s used to putting on a brave face and pushing her feelings so deep it’s like they never existed. And it works, more or less, even this time, when her nerves are so raw and exposed and everything feels so heightened.

She knows Maggie thinks it’s all about awakenings and being drawn to the first gay woman who crosses her path. That she’d feel like this about anyone with a bike and a leather jacket and an attitude to match and dimples that make her stomach do backflips. But she knows it’s not, because she thinks maybe she could have gone a whole lifetime without finding her truth if she hadn’t met Maggie. There’d been a sense of recognition there, almost from the start, a kinship that Alex can’t quite name and she misses that. Misses easy banter over pool tables and dead bodies and the feeling that somebody in the world just _got_ her. She wants that back and she’s going to try and get it. She just hopes that Maggie meant what she said about being there as a friend, and that she hasn’t blown that as well with a couple of weeks of radio silence.

J’onn frowns disapprovingly when she decides to tag along with a couple of agents to a crime scene she’s pretty sure Maggie’s going to be at.  

“You haven’t been cleared for active duty, Agent Danvers.”

She sighs. “Relax. I promise I’ll stick to looking and talking. And in the unlikely event that things turn ugly, I’ll stay well out of the way.”

He starts to respond but she interrupts. “I’m going _crazy_ in here.”

J’onn rolls his eyes. “Fine, Agent Danvers. But absolutely no fighting.”

“Cross my heart.”

Sure enough, Maggie’s already there when they arrive. Alex hangs back for a moment, watching her work. It’s been three weeks since she’s seen her, and when the bitter taste of humiliation and loss threatens to well up and fill her, she chokes it back down. Pushes it back down and plasters a smile on her face. She walks over to where Maggie is crouching, trying to look far more confident than she feels.

“Sawyer. What have we got?” She tries for casual and hopes she’s succeeded.

“Danvers?” There’s surprise in her voice, and maybe something else. Maggie straightens up and turns to her, a frown crinkling her forehead.

“Hey. Thought maybe NCPD’s finest could use some help from the experts.”

Maggie shakes her head. She’s all business as she says, “This one’s pretty straightforward. Now that I’ve had a chance to check out the scene properly, I don’t think we’re looking at alien involvement. You shouldn’t have been called, but one of the new guys on the squad got over-eager. Sorry you wasted your time.” Maggie glances down at her arm, still in its cast. Her voice softens. “Alex, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” She smiles, doing her best to deflect, because it feels like Maggie’s asking about more than her arm and she’s not sure she’s ready for that conversation yet. “Thought I’d make sure you had a fighting chance next time we play pool.”

The frown is still there, as if Maggie’s not sure what to make of her, but it’s slowly being overtaken with a smile. “Is that right, Danvers? Better watch out. I’ve been practising.”

“Yeah?” Alex raises her eyebrows and smirks. “I still wouldn’t bet on you beating me, even with one arm out of action.” It almost feels easy, almost feels natural to slip straight back into their old dynamic. _Almost._ But there’s the matter of a kiss and heartbreak and humiliation hanging between them and as much as she tries, Alex can’t quite forget that. She tries to push those thoughts off to the side and almost succeeds, tries to focus on the here and now and patching things up, or more to the point, sweeping things under the rug.

Maggie’s smile widens until her dimples are showing and Alex’s stomach does that flip-flop thing it always seems to do when Maggie’s around. This is going to be hard, but Alex is already beginning to think it’ll be worth it.

“I don’t know. I’m pretty confident that I could take you right now. I might just take you up on that bet.”

“Tonight, maybe?”

Maggie shakes her head. “Sorry. Prior engagement.”

“Hot date?” Alex forces herself to ask, forces herself to inject a teasing note into her voice, even though she feels slightly sick at the thought.

“I wish.” Maggie smiles tightly, before continuing, “My ex is coming over to pick up some stuff. It promises to be a super fun evening.”  

Alex winces. She feels like an asshole, because in the midst of her own personal crisis, she’d all but forgotten about Maggie’s breakup. “I’m sorry,” she says, and she means it.

Maggie shrugs. “It is what it is.”

“If you need to talk…”

Alex doesn’t get a chance to finish her offer, because there’s a whoosh of air overhead and the ground shakes as Supergirl makes an entrance.

“Wow. Half of the DEO, Supergirl. Talk about overkill. You know if anyone else is planning to make an appearance at my crime scene today? FBI? CIA? Maybe we could create a multi-agency taskforce for what’s looking an awful lot like a robbery gone wrong.”

Alex is just as surprised as Maggie is. “Honestly, I wasn’t expecting Supergirl to show up, either.”

Maggie is looking past her, a frown on her face. “Has Supergirl been dosed with Red Kryptonite, or something?”

“What?”

“Only, it kind of looks like she’s glaring at me and I’m wondering if I’m a couple of seconds away from being fried.”

Alex looks over at Kara and tries to surreptitiously signal for her to stand down. It takes a moment, but Kara seems to get the message.

“Uh… I think she was just doing her X-ray vision thing on that building over there.” Alex picks a building at random and points at it.

Maggie looks sceptical, but shrugs. “Okay. If you say so.”

“Listen, I should probably let you finish up here and get the rest of the team out of your way.” It’s the last thing she wants to do, but she figures her excuse for being here is starting to wear kind of thin. And she should probably talk to Kara before she _does_ accidentally incinerate Maggie.

“Okay. See you ‘round Danvers.” Maggie pauses for a moment, and then, “And if you feel like paying up on that bet, I might be at our usual table after my shift tomorrow.”

Alex smiles. “Maybe I’ll see you there, Sawyer.”

She turns and walks over to where Supergirl is standing, forcing herself not to look back at Maggie, as much as she wants to.

“What are you doing here?” Alex hisses.

Kara looks a little sheepish as she says, “J’onn said you were out on field duty…”

“And you thought you’d come and check up on me,” Alex finishes her sentence for her and she can’t help the exasperation that creeps into her voice. “I’m a big girl, you know, and I was doing this long before Supergirl showed up on the scene. I don’t need you to babysit me.”

“I _know_ that.” Kara looks like she’s going to say something else, but she sighs and changes the subject. “So, I noticed Maggie’s here…”

“Yeah. She thought you were going to hit her with your heat vision. Could you be any less subtle?”

“Sorry.” Kara really does look sheepish now. “Are you okay?”

Alex looks back over to where Maggie is talking to a crime scene tech. “I will be.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful response to the first chapter. I'm absolutely stoked and I hope you enjoy this next chapter.
> 
> I was originally going to write this all from Alex's perspective, but I decided it would work better with Maggie's too.

* * *

Maggie misses the cat. It’s stupid, she knows; it wasn’t even her cat and she only saw it a couple of times a week when she slept over at Erin’s place. And it’s not even about the cat, really. It’s about what the cat promised: domesticity, comfort, sharing a life with someone. A chance to draw a line under all the failed relationships, all the fuck ups and the loneliness. She hadn’t been in love with Erin. Not yet. She’d kept hoping it would come, kept expecting things to change, and she’d tried harder with her than she had with anyone in a long time. This time was supposed to be different. But somehow, like always, she’d managed to fuck this up too.

She regrets agreeing to this, because even with things as awkward as they are right now, she’d much rather be playing pool with Alex than getting into the inevitable fight with Erin. But Erin had insisted she needed her there to sort through some things and after being told in no uncertain terms that Erin never wanted to see her again, Maggie can’t help but wonder if this is some kind of olive branch. And so Maggie had reluctantly agreed, even though she’d much rather have just couriered Erin’s stuff over to her.

She’s perched on her sofa and when she looks around, she realises her apartment is a wreck. She quickly gets rid of the bottles and take-out containers that are occupying more than a few of the available surfaces and hopes Erin doesn’t notice the rest of the mess. Tidiness was one of the many things they’d fought about and Maggie wants to give her as little ammunition as possible. She disposes of the last of the bottles just in the nick of time, because a moment later, the intercom is buzzing.

She definitely has good cause to regret her decision when Erin shows up with her new girlfriend in tow. One look at her, and she knows that the whole purpose of this exercise is to rub salt in her wounds, destroy her even more convincingly.

She probably shouldn’t trust Erin unsupervised, but she can’t handle this right now. “Take whatever it is you came for and get out,” she says tonelessly. She walks into the kitchen and pours herself a double measure of scotch and leans against the kitchen bench, gulping the liquor down. 

 It doesn’t take long for Erin to follow her in there.

“As you can see, I traded up.”

It stings, even though she wishes it didn’t. “Fuck off, Erin. I’m not interested in doing this right now. Or ever, for that matter.” Maggie grips the glass in her hand tighter, tight enough that it almost feels like it could shatter.

“You know, I can’t believe I wasted three months on you.”

Maggie does her best not to react. She doesn’t want to give Erin the satisfaction of seeing how much that hurts. She just takes another sip of her scotch and shrugs. She’s saved by New Girlfriend walking into the kitchen and Erin finally leaves, with exactly two CDs and a sweater in hand, a sweetly poisonous smile on her face. New Girlfriend shoots her an apologetic look as they walk out the door.

She closes the front door and leans against it for a moment, her forehead resting on her arm, gulping in deep breaths and willing herself not to cry. When she can, she retrieves her glass of scotch and retreats to the sofa, trying to piece herself back together.

It’s still early and she thinks about calling Alex. She sits there for a couple of minutes, her finger poised over Alex’s name, willing herself to do it. Willing herself _not_ to do it.

Alex doesn’t deserve this. She doesn’t deserve to deal with all her crap. Maggie knows with a certainty born of experience that if she goes out, if she sees Alex she’ll do something they’ll both regret. Knows that it would only take a couple of drinks before what little control she had was gone and she’d be pushing Alex up against a wall and finishing what Alex had started a few weeks ago with that kiss. That _kiss_. It had taken every bit of willpower she had to pull back, but for a moment, just a fraction of a second, she’d let go and leaned in and let herself be kissed and she’s thought about it ever since.

She throws her phone across the room before she can hit the call button and winces at the crunching sound it makes as it hits the wall. There’s a dent in her wall and when she picks her phone up, she sees the screen is smashed and it won’t turn on.

_Fuck._

*****

Maggie usually keeps to herself, doesn’t socialise much with other cops, but trying to get out of welcome drinks for the newest member of the Science Force would have been bad form, even for her. She’s very quickly remembering why she tries to avoid hanging out in cop bars, though. National City may be a haven of diversity and acceptance, at least compared to Blue Springs, Nebraska, but the NCPD is full of throwbacks to the 1950s and there are a couple of them sitting at the bar when she goes up to buy her round.

“Well, well. If it isn’t my favourite member of the freak squad.”

“Fuck off, Callahan.” Maggie’s never in the mood for Callahan’s particular brand of bullshit, and her patience is worn especially thin tonight.

“Come to keep me company?” Callahan’s eyes skitter across her body in a way that makes her want to break his face.

“Not if you were the last person on earth.” She wills the bartender to hurry up, but he’s taking his sweet ass time and ignoring her.

“I heard she only dates things with tentacles these days,” Marsh says.

She takes a moment to size up both Marsh and Callahan before responding. “Yeah? Well even if you _had_ tentacles, I still wouldn’t be desperate enough to go near either of you.”

“Dyke.”

It’s not the first time she’s been called that by a fellow cop, and not even the first time Callahan’s called her that, but it always stings a little.

“I’m gonna make this real clear for you, Callahan. I answer to Sawyer, or Detective. There are a couple of people I make exceptions for, like if it’s your Mom, I’ll answer to _oh god yes_ or _give me more_.” She smirks when he starts to cock his fist, because tonight she’s definitely in the mood to fuck shit up and if he gives her even half an excuse…

She’s almost disappointed when Marsh grabs hold of Callahan’s arm and the bartender finally notices her.

She makes her way back to the table and stays for a couple of drinks, just to be polite. She figures that’s enough. “Well, it’s been fun, but I’ve got places to be,” she says, as she stands up. She’s hoping Alex will be at the bar, because right now she needs something to look forward to.

“Hey, Sawyer! Where do you think you’re going? Not trying to get out of buying your round are you?” Tanner grabs her arm as she tries to leave the table.

“You take a blow to the head recently, Tanner? I just bought a round.”

“Yeah, but you can’t leave ‘til you buy at least one more. You’ll make Grimshaw feel unwelcome and you don’t wanna do that, right?”

Maggie bites back a curse and plasters a big, fake smile on her face. “Of course not.”

She tries to make a getaway by buying the next round as well, figuring a few extra bucks is worth it for her freedom, but Tanner isn’t having any of it. Two drinks turn into six before she finally makes her escape and honestly, it wasn’t the worst night she’d ever had, but she’s spent most of it wanting to be elsewhere.

She heads over to the alien bar, hoping that Alex will be there, but not really expecting her to. She feels like they still need to clear the air, but she also needs to see a friendly face right now.

She’s surprised when she sees Alex racking up the balls at their usual table. She orders a beer and then heads over to join her.

“I wasn’t sure you’d be here.”

“I wasn’t sure you were coming, but it’s not like I had anything better to do.” Alex picks up the pool cue off the table. “You know, I’ve been practising and I think I’ve just about got this one-handed pool thing figured out. Not liking your chances of collecting on that bet, Sawyer.”

Maggie sighs. “Sorry. I would have called, but…” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and holds it up.

Alex shrugs. “It’s okay. We didn’t have anything set in stone.” Alex breaks and Maggie’s kind of impressed when she manages to sink a couple of balls. She looks up from the table. “So what happened to your phone, anyway?”

She’s just drunk enough and raw enough that when Alex asks, she finds herself relaying the whole shitty situation with Erin. And maybe that’s not the worst thing in the world, because maybe hearing about what a catch Maggie _isn’t_ will be enough to destroy any illusions Alex has about her.

Alex listens, patient, quiet. And then, “You deserve better than that, Sawyer,” she says, and for half a second, Maggie almost believes her. Almost. She knows better, though.

“I don’t know. You know how it is when you’re a cop. The hours are shitty and crime doesn’t respect special occasions. You try not to let work follow you home, but it does. Some days you come home, bruised and in pieces and maybe one day you don’t come home at all.” Maggie looks down at her beer, studying the foam in it intently. “Dating someone like that’s not for everyone.” She stops herself from adding that maybe _she’s_ not worth that kind of risk.

Alex is looking at her, soft eyes full of pity and Maggie squirms a little uncomfortably under her focus, embarrassed at how much she’s revealed. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have dumped all this on you.”

Alex shakes her head. “We’re friends, Sawyer, and you don’t need to apologise. But I do. I was so caught up in my own stuff and I never stopped to think about how you were feeling. And you were right,” Alex says. She pauses, and then, “About all of it. Everything was so new and I got carried away and I realised that when I had time to think about it. So, I’m sorry.”

Maggie can’t help the little pang of regret she feels at hearing that. She forces a smile and says, “We’re all good, Danvers.”

*****

Alex is cleared for active duty early; with Cadmus stepping up its campaign, the DEO needs all hands on deck. They work a couple of cases together over the next few weeks and it’s almost like before. Not quite; Maggie makes a conscious effort not to flirt with Alex, even though flirting is like breathing for Maggie. And Alex, for her part, seems to be okay and whatever crush she’d been harbouring seems to have disappeared, Maggie’s pathetic display at the bar making sure of that. The dynamic is different, but they still make a good team, and Maggie trusts Alex in a way she’s never really been able to trust a partner before.

She’s used to working alone, or with eyes in the back of her head watching for a stray bullet that hasn’t yet managed to catch up to her. She’s always known it’s just a matter of time, because being not-white, not-straight and not-male in the force isn’t exactly a recipe for a long, healthy life. She knows how it goes: back-up that’s slow to arrive, or in a hail of bullets in a firefight. But not with Alex. Alex has her back every step of the way and has pulled her feet out of the fire more than once.

They’ve just closed a case, and when Alex suggests grabbing something to eat, Maggie agrees.

Alex orders a salad and Maggie gets a burger and she tries not to notice when Alex keeps stealing her fries. It feels way too cosy and Maggie’s incredibly conscious that she’s not supposed to be feeling like this.

“You know, that waitress was totally checking you out, Danvers,” she says, even though pointing that out is just about the last thing she wants to do.

Alex steals another French fry and says, “She’s not really my type.”

It shouldn’t feel like a relief, but it does and she feels instantly guilty. “That’s cool.” Maggie shrugs, feigning a casualness she doesn’t really feel. “Hey, if you want, I can take you out and we can see if we can find you someone who _is_ your type.”

“Are you offering to be my wingwoman, Sawyer?”

Alex looks at her sceptically and Maggie forces a smile, as wide and as bright as she can manage. “Yeah. Come on, Danvers, it’ll be fun. How’s Saturday night sound?”

*****

Offering to be Alex’s wingwoman is probably one of the stupidest things she’s done. No, it _definitely_ is, because within three seconds of walking through the door, Maggie thinks she’s seen at least half the women in the bar checking Alex out, and of course they are, because anyone with functioning eyes and a pulse would. She’s also spotted three ex-girlfriends – no, four; there’s another one walking out of the restroom – and she can tell this is going to be a very long, very shitty night. Or maybe it’ll be a very short night, after all, because they barely make it up to the bar before there’s a cute brunette trying to buy Alex a drink and talk her into dancing.

Alex looks over at her, uncertain, and Maggie forces a wink and a smile. “Knock yourself out, Danvers.”

She watches for a moment as Alex gets led towards the dancefloor and then turns around and orders herself a beer. Right about now, she’s thinking they should be erecting a monument in her honour. Maggie Sawyer: patron saint of the baby gays.

She’s made it halfway through her beer and Alex has made it through three dance partners, when Sam walks up to her. It’s kind of a relief, because out of all her exes, Sam’s the one least likely to throw a drink in her face and maybe she’ll be enough of a distraction to take her mind off the sight of Alex dancing with a succession of attractive women.

Sam props herself against the bar, next to Maggie. “How come you never looked at me like that when we were dating?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’d wrestle a bear for me then rub my feet and thank me for the privilege.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Maggie says in what she hopes is a convincing tone. She drains the rest of her beer and signals the bartender for another. Sam is looking at her like she doesn’t believe her and honestly, Maggie doesn’t blame her, because at this point she’d be surprised if she was fooling anyone.

“You know, you broke my heart, Maggie.”

Maggie rolls her eyes. “You’re so full of shit, Sam. I didn’t break your heart.”

Sam smirks at her. “You’re right. You didn’t. But if you’d ever looked at me like you’ve been looking at her all night, you might have. Which is why I don’t get why you’re standing over here drinking overpriced beer and talking to me instead of going out there and dancing with her.”

Alex waves from the dancefloor, as if to punctuate that point and Maggie can’t help the smile that creeps onto her face.

Beside her, Sam laughs.

Maggie sighs. “She’s a newborn, Sam. Just hatched, all shiny and new.”

“And you brought her _here_? She’ll grow up fast.”

“Maybe. But I’m not going to be the one to wear the sheen off her. I’m a disaster and the last thing she needs is me, because I’ll ruin her.”

Sam snorts. “You’ve been listening to Erin’s propaganda, haven’t you? Newsflash: if anyone’s full of shit, it’s her. You’re not even half as bad as you think you are, Maggie. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a date to get back to and you should go wrestle a bear or something.”

Sam leaves and Maggie makes it through another beer before Alex emerges again from the press of bodies on the dancefloor.

Alex downs a glass of water next to her and Maggie tries not to notice how good she looks with a slight flush of exertion colouring her cheeks and a light sheen of sweat on her skin.

The music changes and Alex turns to her, smiling exuberantly, reaching for her hand. “I love this song! Come on, I wanna dance.”

“Uh uh. Me dancing with you would totally defeat the purpose of this exercise.”

“Well, my dance card’s empty, Sawyer and I really like this song.”

Maggie shakes her head. “Doesn’t need to be. I can count at least six women who would say yes if you asked them to dance right now.”

Alex makes a dismissive noise. “I doubt it.”

“Seriously. The redhead at that table near the door… hasn’t taken her eyes off you since you got here. The two blondes at twelve o’clock have been arguing over which one saw you first.” Maggie inclines her head, redirecting Alex’s gaze. “3 o’clock: red dress. Brunette by the pool table. And one of the bartenders asked me for your phone number. I can keep going, if you want.”

“Okay, sure, but I _really_ want to dance and you don’t look like you’re having much fun, so come on…” Alex gives her a pleading look and Maggie can feel her resistance melting. “Just come out for this one dance.”

“We’re here for _you_ , Danvers.”

Alex grins, as if she’s outfoxed her. “Exactly. And what I want is to dance and for you to come with me instead of propping up this bar.”

Alex reaches for her hand again, and this time Maggie lets her catch it, lets herself be led out to the dancefloor. She knows it’s a mistake, but she can’t back out now and all she can do is hope that she survives this.

They get out onto the floor and Maggie’s pretty sure she’s _not_ going to survive this. She’s watched Alex in combat, lithe and graceful and deadly, and she knows what she’s capable of. But she’s never looked quite as dangerous to Maggie as she does now, loose and uninhibited as she moves in time to the music. The bass is thudding and Maggie can feel it in her chest, but it’s not beating half as hard as her heart right now.

Maggie’s stiff as a board, muscles tensed and hands by her sides, because she doesn’t trust herself not to reach out and place her hands on Alex’s hips, pull her closer and find out how they fit together. And Alex must notice this, because she grabs Maggie’s hands and tries to get her to dance a little less stiffly.

“Come on, Sawyer, I know you can do better than that.”

And she can, but not like this. She gently extricates her hands from Alex’s and tries to relax, tries her best to maintain the charade of friends having fun on the dancefloor. That plan ends up in ruins, though, when someone bumps into her from behind and she stumbles forward until Alex steadies her with hands on her waist. She looks up and meets Alex’s wide-eyed gaze. Alex’s lips are parted slightly and it would be so easy to reach up and weave her fingers through Alex’s hair and draw her down into a kiss. Maggie’s only human after all, and she’s tempted. _God_ , is she tempted.

She doesn’t, though. She steps back out of Alex’s reach and tries to pretend that nothing is wrong, but she needs air and she finds herself making a hasty excuse before leaving Alex on the dancefloor.

She thinks about leaving, but she shouldn’t go without saying goodbye to Alex first. She leans against a wall in the hallway near the bathrooms and tries to rediscover her cool. It’s not working.

Alex finds her a couple of minutes later.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I just saw someone I didn’t want to run into. No big deal.” The lie comes easily enough, and it’s not like it’s completely implausible.

“Your ex?” Alex asks. When she nods, Alex gives her a sympathetic look.

Alex leans against the wall next to her and Maggie is incredibly conscious of the way their shoulders are touching. She shifts over a little so there’s at least a little daylight between them, because she’s not sure she can concentrate on anything other than the heat of Alex’s skin against her own.

“Do you need me to go kick her ass for you, or something?”

Maggie smiles, shaking her head. “Thanks for the offer, Danvers, but I think I’m just gonna head home.”

“We could go somewhere else. Grab something to eat, play some pool, maybe?”

Maggie shakes her head. “I’m kinda tired. You should definitely stay, though.” She pushes up from the wall. “Have fun, Danvers. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”


	3. Chapter 3

Alex stares after Maggie, taken by surprise at the speed of her exit. She starts after her, but hesitates for a moment, because even though Maggie had said she’d seen her ex, there’s a niggle of doubt in Alex’s mind. Because when she replays that moment on the dancefloor, just before Maggie fled, she can’t help but wonder if maybe _she_ was what Maggie was running from. She knows what she was thinking, knows what she was feeling, knows that asking Maggie to dance hadn’t been in the least bit innocent. She knows that a moment longer with Maggie in her arms and she’d have been on the verge of taking a flying leap over that line she’d been carefully toeing for the last couple of months.

She’s been so good for so long but now she’s terrified that tonight she finally screwed up and revealed the idea of _friends_ for the hopeless fiction it had always been, at least on her side. Because Maggie doesn’t like her that way and no matter what Alex tries, she doesn’t know how to _stop_ liking Maggie that way. She’s spent a night dancing with other women – _beautiful_ women – and as fun as it had been, as flattering as the attention was, not one bit of it had held a candle to what she felt in a few moments with Maggie.

By the time Alex moves to follow her, Maggie’s long since disappeared around the corner, back into the bar. Alex blinks, trying to readjust to the dimmer light in the bar and spends a futile minute trying to spot Maggie before pushing her way through the crowd towards the front exit. She’s pulling out her phone when she feels a hand on her shoulder. She spins around, a smile forming and falling away in the time it takes to see it isn’t Maggie. It’s one of the women she’d been dancing with earlier and it takes Alex a moment to remember her name _. Stephanie._

“Leaving so soon?”

Alex shrugs. “Places to be.”

“That’s a pity. I was hoping we could get to know each other a little better,” Stephanie says, her eyes frank, appraising.

Alex is already feeling a little off-balance after everything that’s happened tonight and it takes her a moment to arrive at a response. The best she can manage is a mumbled _sorry_.

“Well maybe I could get your number, or give you mine,” Stephanie says. And Alex feels _something_ when Stephanie runs a hand down her arm, feels enough that she doesn’t resist when she takes her phone from her hand. Stephanie hands it back a moment later and says, “You don’t have to call, but I’d really like it if you did.”

Alex looks down at her phone and the new contact in her list. She’s pretty sure she won’t call, but she smiles anyway, because it seems like the right thing to do. “Sure. See you ‘round.”

She finally makes it out the front door and when she looks around, Maggie’s nowhere in sight. She stands for a moment, thinks about going back into the bar and getting to know Stephanie a little better, but she’s not in the mood. Last time she’d tried that, it hadn’t changed a thing and all she’d had to show for it was a hangover, a broken arm and a still-raging case of unrequited feelings. She scratches her arm absent-mindedly, the memory of six weeks in a plaster cast feeling a little too fresh, as she tries to decide where to go from here.

*****

It’s just gone midnight when she knocks on Kara’s door. Kara stands in the doorway, rubbing her eyes sleepily. “Alex?”

“Hey.” She smiles a little sheepishly. “Sorry, I didn’t think you’d be in bed yet.”

“What’s up, Alex?”

Alex shrugs. “Just needed some sister time.”

Kara peers at her for a moment and Alex swears she’s trying to use her X-ray vision to see into her brain. “And…?”

She sighs. “And I think I screwed things up with Maggie.”

“I’m sorry, Alex,” Kara says, and before Alex can even blink, she’s gone and returned with a tub of ice cream and two spoons.

“Got anything stronger?” Alex asks as she follows Kara over to the sofa.

“Than Rocky Road? Nope.”

“You know what I mean.” Alex throws herself onto the sofa and pouts.

“I might have some of that gross mint choc-chip stuff you made me buy.” Kara pulls a face that leaves Alex with no doubts about her feelings about Alex’s favourite flavour and it’s enough of a distraction that she doesn’t even pull Kara up on her continued wilful misunderstanding.

Kara disappears again and from the sudden draft in the apartment, Alex suspects she’s gone a little further afield than the kitchen in search of ice cream. That suspicion is confirmed when she reappears a couple of minutes later with a brand new tub of ice cream and a couple of leaves in her hair.

Alex reaches out and plucks one of the leaves from Kara’s hair. “You didn’t have to go out.”

“Sure I did.” Kara smiles at her, soft and sincere. “This is important and you deserve the best.”

“Thank you.” Alex leans against Kara for a moment, slinging an arm around her shoulder. She’s warm and solid and safe and just being here makes Alex feel a little more like herself. “Now hand over the ice cream before it turns into soup.”

“Gladly. Get this atrocity pretending to be ice cream away from me before it contaminates me with its awfulness.”

Alex takes the tub from Kara’s hands. “It really is the king of ice cream flavours. One of these days you’ll see reason.”

Kara sticks out her tongue. “Eww… no. It looks like radioactive snot.”

Alex digs into the tub and waves a loaded spoonful in Kara’s direction. “But it tastes soooo good.”

“Alex, I swear to Rao, if you want to live to see your next birthday, you’ll get that away from me.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Your loss.”

“Pretty sure I’ll survive.” Kara grins at her for a moment before her expression turns serious. “I know you didn’t just come here for ice cream. Do you want to talk about what happened.”

Alex shrugs. “I screwed up. There’s not much else to say.” Kara gives her a look and Alex sighs. “I think I crossed a line, made Maggie feel uncomfortable.”

“Did she say that?”

Alex shakes her head. “She couldn’t wait to get away from me, though. And I know what I was thinking. We were close, we were dancing and I wanted to kiss her. I wouldn’t have, but I really wanted to and I think maybe she picked up on that.”

“Oh Alex.” Kara gives her a look like someone just killed her puppy, and it feels weird to think that for once, she’s the puppy in question. “I hate seeing you so sad.”

Alex digs savagely at her ice cream, not really interested in eating it  “I just… I feel so stupid, because I think, maybe, on some level I’ve been hoping that something might change. I mean, I’ve tried to get over her, but I don’t know… maybe I’m not trying hard enough.”

Kara shakes her head, then takes Alex’s ice cream and sets it on the coffee table before pulling her in for a hug. “You’re not stupid, Alex. She’s the stupid one for not seeing what she has.”

Alex laughs humourlessly. “You’re my sister so you’re supposed to say things like that. But I know it’s not fair for me to expect anything when Maggie’s already made it clear she doesn’t feel that way about me.” She snuggles in closer to Kara, because right now, this is the safest place she knows. She’s silent for a moment, before she says, “I’m just so tired of feeling like this, Kara. I feel stuck and I don’t know how to move forward.”

“I wish I knew how to fix this for you, but I’m guessing there’s not really much role for a right hook or heat vision or freeze breath here,” Kara says, and Alex desperately wishes it _was_ that simple, that all her problems could be solved just like that. “Do you _want_ me to turn Maggie into an ice statue for you?”

Ashamed though she is to admit it, there probably had been a little while when she might have been half-tempted by Kara’s joking offer, when the heartbreak and the rejection and the humiliation had been fresh. But she hasn’t felt that way for a while, because as sad as she is sometimes, there’s no real anger or resentment there. She’s just tired and worn down from constantly having to check herself, pass every action, every word through a filter to make sure she doesn’t let slip to Maggie how she still feels, long after she’s supposed to have gotten over this.

“Don’t you dare,” Alex says, before poking Kara in the side. “I know all your ticklish spots and I won’t hesitate to use that information.”

Kara retreats to the other end of the sofa and holds her hands up. “Okay, I’m kidding. I promise I won’t.” Kara smiles and says, “But if you change your mind, the offer’s always open.”

Alex retrieves her ice cream from the coffee table. “Can we watch a movie or something?”

“Gilmore Girls?”

“Maybe something with explosions instead.”

She only half pays attention to the television, fidgeting with her phone until she finally gives in and texts Maggie. She never really did know when to leave well enough alone. The response she gets back is short, terse even. _I’m fine, Danvers. Enjoy your night._ Six words and she analyses each and every one of them and then starts wondering about the significance of the period at the end of the text message.

Kara clears her throat and Alex looks up from her phone to see Kara looking at her knowingly.

“What do you think it means when someone ends a text message with a period?”

“Maybe she just had a really strict English teacher in high school,” Kara says. Alex rolls her eyes and Kara pulls a face right back at her. “Or maybe she’s a death robot sent from outer space and she doesn’t understand human emotions.”

Kara catches the cushion Alex throws at her, which is totally unfair because using her super speed for something like that is definitely cheating.

“I’m so lucky to have been blessed with a sister like you,” Alex says.

“You know it.” Kara ignores the sarcasm and grins at her.

They go back to watching the movie in silence. Alex keeps fidgeting with her phone, wondering if she should text Maggie again just to double-check she’s okay and kind of half hoping that Maggie will text again. She’s checking her messages for the hundredth time when Kara reaches over and grabs her phone.

“Hey!”

“I’m saving you from yourself.” Kara gives her what Alex supposes is what passes for a stern look and puts the phone on the arm of the sofa, out of Alex’s reach.

She grumbles a bit more, but eventually settles in to continue watching the movie. A few minutes later, her phone beeps with her text message tone and she dives across Kara trying to retrieve it. She’s too slow and Kara gets there first.

“Who’s Stephanie?” Kara asks, peering at the phone. “I don’t recognise her name, and I know everyone you talk to.”

“No, you don’t,” Alex says indignantly, even though as much as she hates to admit it Kara kind of has a point. The entirety of her social circle consists of work, Kara’s friends and Maggie.

“Yeah, I kinda do.”

Kara’s looking at her expectantly and Alex sighs. “I met her when we were out tonight. She gave me her phone number.” Alex looks at the text message. “And obviously got mine while she was at it.”

“Really?” Kara looks at her with wide, excited eyes. “Is she pretty? Are you going to call her? Please tell me you’re going to call her.”

“I haven’t decided,” Alex says, even though she’d pretty much already decided she wasn’t going to as soon as it had happened.

“A _lex_ ,” Kara draws her name out in a way that is pretty much guaranteed to get Alex to give in at least ninety percent of the time. “It’s _one_ date. It’s not like you have to marry her.” Kara’s voice is softer now, more sympathetic. “And you said it yourself; you’re feeling stuck. Maybe it’s time to try something a little different.”  

Alex glares at Kara and receives a sunny smile in return. “I’ll think about it.”

“So, is she pretty?”

Alex rolls her eyes; Kara’s like a dog with a bone and there’s no way she’s going to get any peace until she answers at least a few of her questions. “I guess,” she reluctantly concedes.

*****

Maggie doesn’t text or call and Alex tells herself that maybe that isn’t as terrible as it seems, even though she checks her phone a little too often the first couple of days to really be believable. She pushes down the disappointment and the worry that she really has screwed everything up and tries to focus on the positives. After all, a little breathing room might do her good, might give her a chance to figure things out.

In the end, she decides that maybe Kara’s right and she should try something different, so she replies to Stephanie’s text with a suggestion for drinks later in the week. They go out and Alex discovers that if she had, hypothetically, written a list of things she’d want in a girlfriend, Stephanie would probably tick most of the boxes. She hasn’t written a list, though, because writing _Maggie Sawyer_ over and over again probably wouldn’t be particularly productive. 

Stephanie isn’t Maggie. What she is, though, is attractive, intelligent and (more importantly) available. And when she kisses Alex goodnight after their date, Alex’s heart doesn’t race the same way it had with Maggie, but it’s sweet and comfortable and Alex thinks that maybe the rest of it will come with time. It’s enough that when Stephanie asks, Alex doesn’t hesitate to say yes to a second and a third date and she thinks that soon she’ll stop counting.

When Maggie eventually does text with an offer of pool and drinks, Alex responds with a vague excuse. She already has plans with Stephanie.

*****

It’s been a little over two weeks since the night in the bar when Maggie calls her for help on a murder case. They’re sitting in Maggie’s car near the docks, waiting for their suspect to show. Maggie briefs her on the case and then they sit there making small talk, when really all Alex wants to ask is if they’re okay. She doesn’t, though, because they’re _friends_ and freaking out about not talking for a few days would be weird and freaking out about something that may not have actually happened would be weirder still.  

“You up for a game of pool tonight, Danvers?” Maggie asks and Alex hates that she feels a little glimmer of excitement at that.

She shakes her head. “Busy tonight. Rain check?”

Maggie raises an eyebrow. “Someone made you a better offer than shitty beer, sticky floors and the opportunity to fleece me of the pittance the city pays me?”

“Yeah. I mean, tempting as that sounds, I have a date tonight. Our fifth date, actually.” And there’s something just a little bit satisfying about this moment, about being able to say that there’s _someone_ who wants her in a way that Maggie doesn’t, that she’s likeable, desirable.

There’s nothing even remotely satisfying about Maggie’s response, though. “Wow. You been holding out on me, Danvers.” There’s a pause and then, “Good for you,” and Maggie’s smile is wide and genuine.

Alex wonders if there’ll ever be a time when Maggie’s smile doesn’t make her heart beat a little bit faster, because this isn’t how this is supposed to go. She’s supposed to be content with how things are and not secretly hoping to see just a little hint that Maggie might be disappointed by her news.

She doesn’t get a chance to think any further on that, because there’s movement on the docks and Maggie nudges her. “Looks like our guy is here.”

They follow him into a warehouse and when Alex sees a flash of movement heading straight for Maggie out of the corner of her eye, it’s instinct that has her closing the few steps between them and tackling their suspect. And she’s sure she has him until she doesn’t, because he’s slipping through her arms and when she moves to follow him, she slips and lands on her ass.

“Fuck!” She looks down and realises she’s covered head to toe in slime.

Maggie takes one look at her and cracks up.

Alex glares at her. “When you’ve finished laughing, Sawyer, you might consider going after our suspect.”

Maggie shakes her head, still laughing. “No point. He’s not our guy.”

“How can you be so sure?

“He’s a Chovaxian. They do that slime thing whenever they feel strong emotions. If he’d been anywhere near my crime scene, we’d have all been swimming in slime.”

“Well how about helping me up, Sawyer?” Alex says, holding out a hand expectantly.

Maggie shakes her head. “Not a chance. That stuff stains.”

“Well that’s just perfect,” Alex grumbles. This is exactly what she needs. She’s got a reservation for the most exclusive French restaurant in National City and she looks like she’s just walked off the set of Ghostbusters. “Stephanie’s going to be so impressed.”

Maggie smirks and says, “Lucky you look good in blue, Danvers.”

She manages not to slip over on her second attempt at getting up and they make their way back to the car. Maggie keeps looking over at her and grinning and Alex holds up a hand in warning. “I’m feeling generous, Sawyer. More than happy to share with you.”

“Thanks for the offer, Danvers, but I’d prefer if you kept your hands to yourself right now. Pretty sure your girlfriend would too,” Maggie says, and Alex doesn’t quite know how to interpret the look Maggie shoots in her direction.

They get back to the car and Maggie rummages in the trunk before throwing a towel in Alex’s direction. “No way you’re getting in my car like that.”

She wipes off as much of the slime as she can and sits on the biohazard bag that Maggie hands her. “Your intel really sucks, Sawyer.” She looks down at her hands and scowls, because even with most of the slime gone, her hands are a startlingly bright shade of blue.

Maggie shrugs. “Sorry. Thought my CI was solid, but I guess I was wrong about him.” She starts the car. “You want me to take you back to the DEO or to your apartment?”

“Shouldn’t we keep chasing down leads?”

Maggie looks her up and down. “No offence, Danvers, but no one’s gonna talk to us with you looking like a reject from the Blue Man Group. Besides, you’ve got a date to get ready for.”

Alex looks at her watch. It’s after five and at this rate she’s going to struggle to get to dinner on time. “Take me home.”

Maggie looks at her expectantly, and she realises that she’s never actually told Maggie where she lives, because that’s not how things are between them. It’s always work or the alien bar or just that once when Alex waited downstairs at Maggie’s apartment before they headed out on a case.

She tells Maggie her address and it’s not long before they’re pulling up outside her building.

She’s just about to get out of the car when Maggie says, “Baby oil.”

“Huh?” Alex frowns at Maggie’s apparent non-sequitur.

“Gets the slime off. Soap and water definitely won’t work.”

“Do I even want to know how you know that?”

Maggie winks, her mouth curving into a smirk as she says, “Probably not.”

She gets out of the car and leans back in through the door. “Thanks, Sawyer.”

“Have fun on your date, Alex.” The smile she gets this time is softer, the smirk from a moment ago gone.

*****

She spends the next couple of days expecting a call from Maggie about progressing the case, but the call doesn’t come. Her Friday night ends up being unexpectedly free and she decides to see if she can track Maggie down at the alien bar. She figures it’s time for that rain check she promised Maggie the other day.

Alex walks into the bar just in time to see Maggie massively over-hit a shot, the violent crack of the balls colliding audible even from the other end of the room. The cue ball jumps off the table, coming to a stop a couple of feet in front of her; she picks it up, tossing it from hand to hand as she walks over to the table.

“Damn, Sawyer. What’d those balls ever do to you?”

Maggie is chalking the end of her cue with a kind of studied aggression, and she startles when Alex speaks.

“Oh, hey Danvers.”

Alex puts the ball on the table and rolls it down to the other end. Maggie catches it and sets up her next shot. It goes just as well as her previous shot, and this time Alex catches the cue ball as it hops the rail.

There are two empties on the table behind Maggie, and Alex wonders if maybe there are a couple more that have already been cleared away based on the speed with which Maggie seems to be draining the bottle in her hand and her worse-than-usual pool technique.

“What’s up, Sawyer?”

“Nothing.” Maggie picks up the chalk and starts working on the end of her cue again. “Just playing some pool.”

“Kinda seems like something might be up,” Alex says. “By the way, I think you’ve got enough chalk on there to last you a month.”

Maggie shrugs. “It’s nothing. Just some shit going down at work.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“You know I somehow managed to do my job just fine for years without the DEO holding my hand,” Maggie says, before draining the rest of her beer. She slams the empty bottle down on the table.

Alex holds her hands up. She’s not sure what’s got Maggie in this mood, but she’s pretty sure she needs to tread lightly. “Hey, I _know_ that. You’re a great cop, Sawyer, and I’m lucky to have the chance to work with you.”

“Yeah?” The undertone of anger is still there and Alex can’t figure out why, because it seems like maybe some of it’s directed at her.

“Yeah.”

“Fuck!” Maggie’s latest shot manages to sink the black ball as well as send the cue ball off the table again.

Alex picks up the cue ball, holds it up for a moment and then puts her hands behind her back. “Ma’am, I’m confiscating this before you commit any further crimes against the sport of billiards,” she says, trying to evoke at least half a smile from Maggie.

She doesn’t get a smile. Instead, she gets Maggie stalking towards her with a dangerous look in her eyes, until there’s barely a hair’s breadth between them.

Maggie’s voice, close to her ear, is like velvet rubbed the wrong way. “This is my bar and my table and my jurisdiction and I don’t know where you get off thinking you can just waltz on in here and take over.”

Alex freezes. She’s not sure what she’d come here expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this. Maggie’s close enough that breathing feels like it’s not actually something she can accomplish without assistance and Maggie’s definitely not likely to be any help on that front. She can feel the edge of the pool table pressing into her thighs and then Maggie’s arms snake around her sides and Alex is pretty sure her brain is about to shut down from a lack of oxygen.

She doesn’t resist when Maggie takes the cue ball from her hand and then Maggie’s stepping back, a look of triumph in her eyes, while Alex stands there in stupefied silence.

Alex eventually clears her throat, because that’s as close to speech as she can manage right now. And she suspects that her confusion is written all over her face, because Maggie’s expression shifts abruptly from triumphant to apologetic.

“Sorry, Alex. I don’t know…” Maggie trails off, and then, “I think maybe I should go home.” The smile that Maggie gives her is strained and it’s gone almost right away.

“I’ll walk you out,” Alex says, because even as off-balance as she still feels, she wants to make sure Maggie’s safely in a taxi before she leaves. They walk out of the bar and she frowns when Maggie heads in the wrong direction. “You’ve got a better chance of getting a taxi if we go the other way.”

“I rode here and I’m sure as shit not leaving my bike around here overnight,” Maggie says. She pulls her keys out of her pocket, twirling them around her fingers as she walks.

Alex follows Maggie to the alleyway where her bike is parked.

“Well there’s no way I’m letting you ride home like this.” She’ll do whatever she can to stop Maggie from getting on that bike. She’s pretty sure there’s some national security legislation she could invoke if she absolutely has to.

Maggie stares at her keys for a moment, a look of contemplation on her face, then tosses them to Alex. “You gonna take me home?”

Alex raises an eyebrow, because in the same position she’s not sure she’d hand over her keys. “You trust me with your bike?”

Maggie gives her a half-smile. “Yeah, Danvers. I trust you. Just don’t you dare tell anyone you had me riding bitch on my own bike.”

There’s only one helmet and she gives it to Maggie, who takes it with an eye-roll and a sarcastic _my hero_. She gets on the bike, with Maggie behind her, and as unsettling as this evening’s been, she’s maybe just a little bit excited about taking Maggie’s bike out for a spin.

She’d never admit it out loud, but occasionally she regrets buying her Ducati. It’d been great when headquarters had been outside the city and she’d had a chance to put it through its paces most days. Now, though, with the DEO right in the middle of National City and all its traffic, she occasionally finds herself wishing for something a little easier to ride.

She tries to focus on the unfamiliar bike and how well it responds to weaving through the backstreets of National City, even with the added awkwardness of a passenger. She tries to focus on anything but the feeling of Maggie pressed against her back, arms locked tight around her waist and how good, how right it feels.

They get to Maggie’s place and she leans against the wall of the parking garage, watching Maggie put her bike away.

“So how come you’re out rescuing stray cops on a Friday night instead of spending it with your girl?” Maggie asks. The agitation from earlier is gone and she seems more like her usual self.

Alex shrugs. “She had a work thing tonight. And we kind of haven’t hung out in a while, so I thought I’d see if you were around.”

“Sorry if I ruined your night.” Maggie gives her a sheepish look.

“It’s okay. I probably would have ended up working, otherwise.”

“You wanna come up?” Alex is pretty sure it’s an innocent question, but when she meets Maggie’s gaze, she’s suddenly left wondering if maybe it’s more than just wishful thinking.

Alex hesitates. She’s tempted, but she also knows it’s a terrible idea, because if tonight’s shown her anything, it’s that nothing about her feelings for Maggie has changed. “I should probably get going.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

She’s taken by surprise when Maggie steps forward and pulls her into a hug. It takes her a moment to relax, and then she’s wondering if she’s held on too long, but then Maggie’s arms tighten around her. “I’m glad we’re friends,” Maggie says, her voice soft and close to Alex’s ear. And Alex is not sure she could be any more confused than she is right now.

She takes a taxi back to her apartment, but she’s too keyed up, so she takes her bike out for a ride, outside the city limits where she can really let loose. By the time she’s on her way back into the city, she’s still feeling like she’s about to jump out of her skin. She rides past her place and keeps going.

It’s not until her head is buried between Stephanie’s thighs that she feels like she’s exorcised the ghost of Maggie’s arms around her. And even then, she’s not sure.


End file.
